


Ron's Varsity Jacket

by campy



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campy/pseuds/campy
Summary: Ron was the star of the Middleton High football team in season four. Ever wonder why we never saw him in one of those cool varsity jackets like Brick Flagg and his posse always wore? I did.
Relationships: Kim Possible/Ron Stoppable
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	Ron's Varsity Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> This looks like an interesting site. I should post some of my fanfiction here. I'll start with this little one which I wrote about 10 years ago. It garnered some good reviews when it went up. Hope you like it.

_Tweeeeeeeeet!_

The piercing sound of the coach's whistle signaled the end of the afternoon's football practice. The young student-athletes all stopped in their tracks, grateful to have survived another brutal day.

"All right, people, listen up!" shouted Coach Steve Barkin. "That was the most pathetic effort I've ever seen. We'll have to work twice as hard tomorrow to be ready for the West Whitewater game this weekend. Now, everyone shower up and assemble on the bleachers inside, ASAP. Move it, move it, MOVE IT!"

Boys began hurrying toward the locker room. Ron Stoppable, star running back of the Middleton High Mad Dogs, wondered what was going on. (This was something Ron did frequently.) Teammates hurried past him right and left; he caught bits and pieces of excited conversations: "Today's the day! … They're here! … I can't wait!"

"Yo, 'Unstoppable,' hurry up!" big Number 72 said. "You don't want to be late for the meeting."

"What's going on, Tiny?" he asked the six-foot-five, 245-pound lineman.

"We're gettin' our varsity jackets today."

"We get jackets? Badical!" Ron said, and followed the crowd.

* * *

Showered and dressed, Ron slid into a seat on the bleachers, just as the double doors to the gym flew open and Coach Barkin, accompanied by quarterback Kyle Monson and the other co-captains, wheeled a large cardboard carton into the room.

"All right, people," Barkin said with a sigh, "you really don't deserve these, given how weak you ladies have looked this season." (The Mad Dogs were currently undefeated except for a forfeit in their first game.) "But, we can't spare the storage space, so …"

"Oohs" and "ahs" issued from the crowd as he opened the carton and pulled out the first jacket.

It was the coolest thing Ron had ever seen that wasn't trying to hurt him.

The body of the garment was Mad Dog Purple, with red knit trim at the collar and cuffs; the sleeves were white leather. The back was emblazoned with a large embroidered Mad Dog head; block letters spelled out MIDDLETON FOOTBALL above and below the dog. The left sleeve featured the owner's jersey number at the shoulder and his last name in red letters along the forearm.

Mr. B pulled out the jackets one by one and called players to come up and collect theirs. It took a while, as there were more than fifty boys on the team. As Ron waited anxiously for his turn, his girlfriend Kim joined him on the stands, fresh from cheer practice.

"Varsity jackets! Oh Ron, I can't wait to see you in yours. I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his shoulders. Ron blushed as players cast envious glances his way. Some made smooching noises.

Finally Ron's name was called, and he and Kim went down to the gym floor where Steve Barkin handed him his jacket. He was about to try it on when Kim stopped him.

"Hold on, Ron, there's a problem," she said.

"Problem? What? Where?"

"Here." She pointed to the sleeve, where the name _"Stopable"_ was stitched in red. "They spelled your name wrong."

"Oh, right," Ron said. "S'posed to be two Ps … in a pod. Oh well, close enough."

"No, Ron," Kim insisted. "You've worked so hard for this jacket, you deserve to have it just right."

"She's right, Stoppable," Mr. B said, snatching the prize from Ron's hands. "I'll send this back to the factory, have them make up another one. Should be about a week."

* * *

A disappointed Ron endured a full week of watching his teammates strut around campus in their new jackets.

Finally, he was called to the coach's office. Mr. Barkin handed him a new jacket. It was just like the old one, except Ron's name was spelled correctly. Unfortunately, the jersey number on the shoulder was Kyle Monson's 9 instead of Ron's 7.

"It's no big, really, Mr. B," Ron said, not wanting to wait any longer.

"No, Stoppable, we'll get this straightened out yet," the coach said.

* * *

The next week Ron returned to the office to find a jacket with the correct name and jersey number — and so large the entire Mad Dog offensive line could have fit inside it at the same time, Tiny included.

"Better give that back to me, Stoppable. It'll be —"

"Another week, yeah. I know the drill," Ron said sadly.

* * *

The next jacket was Ron's size, with no spelling errors at all. But, thanks to a computer error, the company had used pink cloth instead of purple.

* * *

The next week Kim and Ron went to Mr. B's office and saw the perfect jacket on a hanger. It was the right color. The number was right. His name was spelled correctly. He took it down and tried it on; it fit him like it was custom tailored. "Oh yeah, this works," he said with satisfaction.

"Oh no," Kim said. "I can't believe this company."

"What now?" Ron said, admiring his reflection in the mirror. "This jacket is perfect, KP."

"Perfectly _sick and wrong."_ Kim said. "Check the back."

Ron slipped the jacket off and held it at arms' length. The company had made yet another mistake: instead of the Mad Dog head, there was a monkey's, and the lettering read LOWERTON LEMURS. "Ah! Monkey!" he screamed, as he dropped it and jumped back.

* * *

" _Ron Stoppable, report to the athletics office,"_ the PA announcement said.

Ron, who was enjoying a rare study hall with Kim and with a teacher not named Barkin, stayed in his seat.

"Ron, didn't you hear your name?" Kim said. "I bet your jacket is here."

"Who cares? It's probably messed up again."

"C'mon, Ron, I bet they got it right this time. Let's go see. I really want to see my hottie in his varsity jacket."

Reluctantly, Ron accompanied an eager Kim to the office. Mr. Barkin handed him a box; he opened it and removed his new jacket. He took his time and looked it over carefully, down to the tiniest stitch. Everything was perfect, front and back, inside and out; nary a loose thread in sight.

"Put it on, Ron," Kim urged. He complied.

"Wow, it looks great on you," she said. "My Football Hero."

Ron checked his reflection, turning this way and that. After all these weeks, it was finally here. He stood straighter, squared his shoulders and grinned with satisfaction. Who could have imagined it years ago: goofy Ron Stoppable, wearing the highest status symbol a Middleton High boy could aspire to, dating the head cheerleader … it was a fantasy come true.

Kim moved next to him and slipped her arm around his waist. Kim and Ron turned to face one another. Kim slid her hands up inside Ron's new jacket and ran them up and down his back. "So warm …" she purred.

Mr. Barkin cleared his throat. "Possible, Stoppable, I'm going to the supply room for, uh, supplies. I'll return in two minutes. Don't let me find you two here when I get back." He left the two teens alone.

* * *

That night, Ron wore his new jacket as he escorted Kim to the movies and to Bueno Nacho. While driving home, they spotted the flashing lights of emergency vehicles on a street near their homes.

"Let's check it out," Kim said, as she parked the Sloth. The teens approached Officer Hobble and asked what the sitch was.

"Just a kitchen fire, Miss Possible. It's completely extinguished now," he replied.

"Mind if we get closer, see if anyone needs our help?"

He waved them along, and they approached the house.

The nearest civilians to the scene were a man and woman with a boy about eight years old. They could see the boy was crying, and the man was trying to console him.

Kim approached the woman. "Hi, I'm Kim Possible and this is my partner Ron. What happened here?"

"Fire," she said. "We lost our whole kitchen."

"That's so the drama. Is everyone all right? Anything we can do to help?"

"Thanks, but I think we're all set. Nobody was hurt, we have temporary accommodations, and we can move back in a couple of days."

"Why is the little boy so upset?" Ron asked.

The woman let out a sigh. "That's our son, Brett. He just lost the most precious thing in the world to him. Last week he got a trophy for playing on his soccer team. It was just a little plastic thing, but Brett was so proud of it, he's been carrying it everywhere ever since. Then we went out tonight, and he left it on the kitchen table. He begged us to turn back for it, but we were running late, so I said no, it would be there when he got home. Then we get back to find this …" she waved her hand to indicate the fire trucks.

"That's rough," Ron said.

Kim nodded. "Well, I guess if there's nothing we can do here, we'll head off."

"Thanks for offering. Nice meeting you," the woman said.

Kim and Ron headed back to the Sloth. Kim went around to the driver's side and got in. She expected Ron to enter right after her, but he didn't … not right away.

"What's keeping that BF of mine?" she wondered.

Then the car door opened and Ron got in. "Brrr, turn the heater on, KP. It's chilly out there."

"How can you be chilly in that …" She glanced over, then did a double take. Ron wasn't wearing his varsity jacket. She turned around and, through the Sloth's rear window, saw little Brett waving at them, a huge smile lighting up his face and Ron's jacket draped over his shoulders.

"Guess I don't look like your Football Hero any more," Ron said, still shivering.

Kim put her hand on his arm. "Oh Ron, you're something a lot better than that."

"What?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. "You're a _real_ hero," she murmured, and she gave him a kiss that chased all his chills away.

_the end_


End file.
